Surrogate
by Shini02
Summary: Oneshot. Slight AU, discarding '06 canon. Things always get worse before they get better. Past VinniexHarley, present VinniexCharley, eventual StokerxHarley.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own BMFM, but if I did, this would be canon.

* * *

**Surrogate**

She daydreams, losing herself in memories of Mars, because what was is better than what is. She thinks back to a time before the war, before the planet was reduced to nothing but red sand and ruins. Then, life had been worth living. Then, everything made sense. Now, it's a struggle to survive and it seems like everything is upside down and inside out.

She remembers the first day she met him. He came to her shop with Modo and Throttle, and he'd had to walk his bike in, it had been so badly banged up. The surprise on her face must have been evident because he'd laughed sheepishly, explaining that one of their races had gotten out of hand. Or, according to Modo, Vinnie had been the one to get out of hand, driving off the beaten path, eventually taking a turn too sharply and skidding into a ravine.

If she recalls correctly, the moment she took interest in him was the moment he laughed, and rather boldly at that, in the face of danger. They'd exchanged names then, and that was where their awkward relationship had begun.

For years, it was all a game about leading the other on, flirting in good faith, seeing who caved first. Unfortunately, they were both too stubborn for their own good. So when he started finding other girls to charm, either out of boredom or in the hopes of making her jealous, she did him one better: when the Plutarkians invaded, she reeled the General of the Freedom Fighters in. Stoker van Rotten was an older male, but he was experienced, and he'd been more than willing to give her what Vinnie wasn't.

That, she thinks, was the push he needed to take her seriously, because it wasn't long afterward that he started showing a side of himself she'd never seen before. Apparently, he wasn't all brazen and loud; though his ego never deflated, he proved could be humbled and that he knew how to speak in a whisper. In no time, whatever meager ties she'd had to Stoker were severed, because even if she did love her General, she wasn't in love with him. Her heart was set elsewhere, and she'd had a feeling things were finally going to work out.

But then it all came crashing down, and finds herself glaring at the memory of those treacherous arms and that wicked laugh. That rat had stolen her away and kept her as his trump card, the most important piece to the puzzle he had every intention of putting together. She doesn't know how long it lasted, but she was grateful when she was finally found, even if it was by pure coincidence. From what she could gather, the three Freedom Fighters hadn't known she was with Mace, only that Limburger had brought him to earth in the hopes that they could form a partnership again and successfully overthrow Mars, as well as Earth, this time around.

No words could have conveyed the joy she felt when she saw him again after so long. She'd held on to him and thanked him and begged him never to let her go again, and he'd promised she'd be safe so long as he was around.

Foolishly, she'd assumed things would pick up where they'd left off, and then she met Charlene Davidson. Thinking back, she thinks things had gone smoothly when they were first introduced. They shared a lot of common ground, and the human knew of a lot of things that had piqued Harley's interest. It could have been a solid, sturdy friendship.

Then she saw _them_ together, and in an instant she knew things would never be the same.

Watching them now, Charley sprawled beneath an Angel's bike and Vinnie admiring her handy work (among other things, she notices regretfully), she feels things she wish she didn't. She's angry and hurt and jealous and her mind races with questions she doesn't really want answered. Whats and whys and hows that threaten to drive her to the brink of stark raving madness.

Sometimes, she wishes she'd learned to stop caring. Feeling nothing, she supposes as she watches him take Charley's hand and pull her to her feet, would be better than feeling like this.

Sometimes, she thinks as she turns her back to them, she was better off alone.

* * *

She decides she can't stay here any more. She chalks it up neatly, quickly, as homesickness, a longing for Mars. She'll never tell another living soul it's really because she can't stand the ache in her heart any longer, because she's supposed to be stronger than this. She's a mature adult, after all, and these things happen, and life should be going on – but it isn't, and it won't so long as she's stuck on this blue planet.

Throttle is clever – always has been, always will be – and he knows. He never says it outright, but after she says she wants to return to Mars, he lays a gentle, calloused hand on her shoulder and squeezes. He tells her he's sorry, but that he's sure things will eventually work out for her. Because that's the way life works, no matter what planet you're from: things always get worse before they get better.

She wants to ask what makes him so sure, but she doesn't. She simply puts her hand over his, squeezing against those scarred knuckles with more force than she would have liked. He promises, before he pulls his hand away, that he'll handle the arrangements for her departure. She nods her thanks, and doesn't think twice about it. After all, Throttle has important ties to Mars, and it's only natural for her to assume he'll be asking Carbine to handle things.

Except, it isn't Carbine who lands on Earth in a Martian shuttle just a few days later. She's surprised, to say very least, when she walks into the Last Chance and finds the General standing there, arms crossed over his chest, a grin on his lips as he makes small talk with the other Martians and Charley. Then, like a scene in a movie, everything suddenly starts to quiet down as his attention is brought to her.

Modo is slack-jawed and Vinnie is gaping, as though they just realized what Throttle had been planning all along. Throttle himself isn't even trying to hide the smug smirk he sports as the two stare each other down.

It's been a long time since Harley has laid eyes on Stoker, and for the most part he hasn't changed. He looks tired, world-weary and war-worn, older than in her memory, but he's still as handsome as ever. It doesn't take long before he begins to lay on the charm that once held her captive all those years ago when love was just a game to be played and hearts were prizes to be won.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you're alive," he says, and by the time she replies everyone else has left the garage.

"Well," she says bittersweetly, "at least someone is."

His hands are on her shoulders, as strong and gentle as she remembers them. "Harley, we're all very glad to have you back," he tries to reason with her.

"Some, I think, more than others."

"Hey," he says and his eyes narrow on her, "all's fair in love and war." Because he's no fool and she knows he knows she's hurting right now because of whatever it is that's formed between Vinnie and Charley. When she glares, he laughs softly and draws her in to a hug.

"You gotta know when to let go," he tells her, running a hand up and down her spine, his bionic tail easing toward her, looping loosely around her waist.

"Stoke – " she starts, but stops when she feels that mechanical appendage squeezing her gently. She remembers this, or something similar; remembers being caught in his arms and tail and feeling her heart pound against her ribcage. She remembers wishing the feeling would never end.

She remembers loving him. It had been an awkward, clumsy love, but it had been real while it lasted.

She thinks, maybe, given the right incentive, she could learn to let go of certain things and feelings and people and start over fresh.

Looking up at him, she thinks she could love him again – and this time, maybe they'll get it right.

-End


End file.
